Whine For Me
by CWprodigy
Summary: Summary: George Huang wakes a little after 10 on his Friday off half-hard and ready to crawl out of his skin. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics. Rafael/George slash, implied office sex, and fashionable collars. Dedicated to Bucken-Berry. Don't like? Don't read.


George Huang wakes a little after 10 on his Friday off, half-hard and ready to crawl out of his skin. The sheets are both damp and sticky to his sweat-drunk flesh and his mouth is dry, his tongue heavy and reluctant. He can feel pangs of warmth and need flow through his body and he muffles a moan with a pillow. This isn't a heat, it's a withdrawal. He hasn't seen his mate in nearly eight days and his body physically aches for contact. George knows Omegas can't go this long without their Alpha. But he's never been typical, never needing constant attention and physical affection and his heat cycles are well controlled. Yet his body is reacting from the loss, much like a junkie going cold turkey and he hates the way his normally steady hands tremble as they pull back the sheets.

He tries to force his hands steady all while resisting the urge to riffle through his wardrobe in search of anything his Alpha may have left just to inhale his scent. This feeling of neediness irks him, makes him curse his mate even as he changes to go see him. His body reacts to just the _though_t of seeing him, fresh slick threatening to ruin his pants. He growls, his breath reduced to pants and reaches for a plug in his night stand to cure the problem before it starts.

…

George has gotten used to the stares, the knowing smiles. He knows that the female secretary thinks he's getting fucked on Rafael's desk every time he walks into the attorney's office. He'd be more annoyed if it weren't occasionally true.

He can hear the raised voices down the hall but it isn't until he's face to face with Barba's office door that he can distinguish them. Amaro. Rafael. Olivia, butting in occasionally to calm them down but only fanning the flames.

The scene he walks in on is just what he expected: Rafael perched in his office chair, eyes angry, cold and controlled. He's leaning back, making a cage with his fingers while regarding the detectives before him. Amaro is standing, pacing the floor, his face red, his fists clenched at his sides.

"How are you not going to charge the bastard?" Amaro asks, an octave away from yelling. "She described the son a bitch's birth mark for god's sake!"

"Nick-"

"No Olivia," he snaps, his tone murderous. "I wanna know why we have to do his job for him."

At this Rafael rises, but he falters when he sees George. His eyes change, warming in color.

"Counselor," the psychiatrist says, his body tuned to him like a violin. He can feel his heartbeat pound in his fingertips, his feet. The urge to just kneel by his Alpha's chair nearly overwhelming.

"One moment, doctor," Rafael says, dropping their gaze in favor of fixing the Hispanic detective with cool look. "You don't have to do my job if you would do your own. The birthmark was on the accused's stomach and given that he and the victim frequented the same swimming pool on overlapping dates, it would be easy for the defense to argue that she saw it at the pool."

"You know this hack is good for this!"

"Yes, I do," Rafael hisses, "But I think like a prosecutor and you think like a detective. We're trained to connect the dots. A jury of ordinary citizens are not."

"Anyone with eyes could see that perv—"

"Counselor…"

"One moment doctor," the attorney says, a bite in his voice and George looks away, scolded.

The argument rages on and George feels himself grow more desperate. He knows he won't be able to control himself much longer and he needs his mate. His touch. His lips on his skin. He knows there's one last thing he can do, something all Omegas are capable of that there Alpha wouldn't be able to ignore. He's just never thought himself capable of doing. But another wave of slick is pushing against the plug and he can feel sweat on his forehead, his desperation increasing and pushing at that last bit of control that separates instinct from human reason.

The loud, indignant whine that fills the room shocks them all into silence.

All eyes turn to the doctor who stares at the floor, a crimson blush creeping up his collar. No one has to look for the embarrassment in his posture as another whine escapes his parted lips.

"George."

Hesitantly he looks up, wide-eyed, noticeably trembling. His Alpha looks shocked, mouth slightly open, eyes searing. He clears his throat and says in a voice none of them have ever heard before, somehow both rough and soft, "George come here."

The dazed omega obeys, walking quickly over to Rafael, kneeling on the pillow by his chair placed there solely for the days that George allows himself to be petted. Rafael lowers himself into his office chair and George immediately nuzzles his thigh, relieved to be so close. Barba's fingers find his scalp, a barely there smile on his face. It fades when he turns back to the two detectives.

"Well?" He says, tone suddenly sharp. "Bring me more evidence then we'll charge the despicable bastard."

Amaro wants to protest. It's clear by the fire in his eyes but he knows better than to come between an Alpha and his Omega. Instead he lets out a frustrated growl, flashing sharp canines, and follows Olivia out the door.

Once the door clicks closed, Rafael sinks more heavily in his char. His fingers easily drawing loud purrs from his lover as they scratch his scalp, running softly across his nape and the bumpy ridges of his spine. His omega's skin is heated to the touch.

"Now doctor," he says, tone far too amused to the slightly panting man. "That was very unprofessional of you. Coming in here, distracting me with your scent and that whine you let out." His grip tightens, his voice dropping. "I could've taken you at that moment."

A guilty, lustful whimper escapes his lover's mouth. Rafael loosens his hold and takes pity on him, pulling his smaller lover into his lap. George straddles him, burying his face in his Alpha's shoulder. He smells of his sweat. Of lust. His own slick. And Rafael growls lowly into his ear, telling him to be still.

"I'm sorry." George's voice is small, muffled by the soft suit jacket. "I just couldn't wait and you were so close and I just couldn't keep _feeling_ like this."

"How do you feel, pup?" Calloused fingers run over his collarbone, peeling off George's suit jacket and casting it to the side. He grins when he sees George is wearing one of his ties, the blue one with white polka-dots he thought he'd lost.

"I feel…" George's voice quivers, he licks his lips and finds his Alpha's gaze, pupils blown wide. "I feel so open and hard…so _wet._ I need…_god_, please Rafael."

"George we're in my office and the door isn't locked." It's so hard to refuses him in this rare state. This lusty, whimpering mess of hard and wet omega so eager to spread his legs for him.

"Do you know what it's like to think about nothing but getting fucked for hours?"

"George—" It's a desperate warning, one he knows won't be heeded. He's already rock hard. Ready.

"All I could think about was your knot inside of me." Rafael's hands tighten around his hips at the words, his own cock straining against his pants. He looked down at his lover, those dark lustful eyes, his full lips. No doubt he was plugged, eagerly anticipating his Alpha's knot. Rafael could picture him walking around his apartment, undeniably hard, plugged, trying to get control of his body's need. How long had he suffered? Had he touched himself, seeking relief? Had he fucked himself with a toy?

Shit. George is rocking their lengths together, grinding down. Rafael kisses him, long and deep, biting his lower lip until George opens his mouth to allow deeper access. George's hands are shaky and determined on the attorney's jacket, yanking it off. Rafael is already unbuttoning the omega's shirt, fingers grazing his chest, scratching his nipples as George moans.

"How many times have I taken you on this desk?" The Alphas asks, breathless, pushing George against it. His grin is feral as he looks at his lover spread his legs, reaching a hand down to touch himself.

George's response is a huff a breath, a near command.

"Not enough."

…

He's on his lap. Sated. Enjoying the way their scents mingle so beautifully. Rafael's fingers are in his hair rubbing the scalp in gentle circles and making a blissed purr bloom from George's throat.

"Hey," The attorney says, voice still husky from sex. George looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, his lips still swollen from Barba's brutal kisses. There are bruises on his collarbone, several more littering the creamy skin of his hips. Rafael is always amused at how sleepy George is after sex, how the normally reserved man wants nothing more than to be as close to his mate is possible.

"I have a conference next week on Wednesday." As expected George tenses. Rafael plants soft, nibbling kisses to his neck until he's calm again. "I'll only be in D.C. for a few days. I wouldn't go if I had a choice."

George nods. He doesn't like the thought of his mate leaving but he doesn't like his reaction even more so. When did he begin to depend on Rafael for his serenity? When did the attorney learn how to touch him in the exact way to effectively soothe him?

"George," Rafael draws him out of his mind, brushing his black fringe from his face with a tender smile. "There's something we can do to stop you from feeling so lonely. A collar."

"A…collar?" George says, now fully alert. He stares at his mate waiting for the joke to be over but Rafael stares back at him unflinchingly.

Its common practice for Omega's to wear collars and George never looked down on anyone for wearing them. He's just never considered himself the type to need that constant assurance, the sign of ownership.

"You wouldn't wear it all the time. It's just when you're at home and you miss me," Rafael continues, nuzzling George's neck, placing a kiss to the bite mark he's already left on his throat.

"You've seemed to put a lot of thought into this," George murmurs against his skin, "You've already bought one haven't you?"

He can feel the attorney's cheeks heat up even as his strong hand's leaves George's lithe body in favor of the drawer of his desk where he produces a leather collar. It's simple, a buckle and D-ring design, nothing too flamboyant. The material feels soft and expensive in George's hands and he strokes the material, wondering what it would feel like against his skin.

"Can you…" he pauses, looking down at the collar. "Can you put it on me?"

The Alpha nods, gently raising George's head and taking the collar from his hands. He watches his lover's adam's apple bob somewhat nervously when the leather is wrapped around his throat. The deep red contrasts with his marble skin and inky black hair, the collar pulled snug but not too tight, enough to be a notable presence but not overwhelming.

"You look beautiful," Rafael purrs and George looks at his now empty hands. The collar is soft against his skin, smelling of his mate's scent. "Is it… is this okay?"

A yawn leaves his throat instead of an actual reply as he resituates himself, burrowing deeper into Rafael's warmth. "It'll take some adjustment but I don't dislike it. Can we please sleep now?"

"You are aware that we're still in my office with the door unlocked?"

"Do you_ really_ want to move?"

"No."

"That's what I thought," George murmurs, placing a sweet kiss to Rafael's lips, already half-sleep. "Now sleep."

"Alright," Rafael appeases, but his Omega is already asleep, the red collar wrapped around his neck like security. A gentle grin sneaks across Barba's face as he runs fingers gently over the leather, praying no one barges in and ruptures this rare moment. "Sleep tight pup."

…

A/N: I just needed some slight smut/fluff in my life. Shout of to adarafaelbarba on tumblr for the idea of the red collar. I wrote this in literally three hours so it will be edited way more when I'm not so burnt out. Reviews are most appreciated.


End file.
